


Fascinating

by laelia753



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dom!Spock, Dom/sub, First Time, Kink, M/M, Possessive Spock, Protective Spock, Sub!Kirk, This is emotional porn and then actual porn, dominant spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laelia753/pseuds/laelia753
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’ll be fine, Spock, honest. A quick word with the high priest about that jewel I found, an overview of the culture here, and we’ll be back on the ship in time for dinner.”</p><p>Spock finds himself unable (read: unwilling) to leave Kirk's side after a failed rescue mission. Kirk rolls with it. This is a lot of feelings and eventually a lot of filthy porn. Non-con in first chapter. Read and review (and enjoy) <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“It’ll be fine, Spock, honest. A quick word with the high priest about that jewel I found, an overview of the culture here, and we’ll be back on the ship in time for dinner.”  
Spock suppressed a nearly-human groan of annoyance as he darted through the thick, black forest, heading for the hazy light of the prison where Kirk was currently housed. He could hear his captain’s illogically persuasive voice in his head still, almost an hour now after the apple-sized deep red jewel was identified as the most prized mark of their culture’s god of pleasure, and that Kirk was therefore equally prized. Naturally, Kirk would have defended himself against the threat of being used in their rituals, whatever they entailed, and naturally, being outnumbered approximately twenty-seven to one, he was easily overcome and detained. Logically, Spock thought as he sprinted, he would have been about as defenseless as Kirk against the numbers of the war-like humanoids if he had been with him, and not in the town square making observations and taking mental notes of the culture’s similarities to the classic Greco-Roman era of Earth. However, it was still his duty to keep Kirk safe, and he hadn’t been there to help him. Spock bit back another human emotional response, a quiet throb of guilt, and scanned the building now in front of him for a way in. There did not seem to be one other than the front door.   
Spock allowed himself a short sigh and set his phaser to stun. Very well then. 

James Kirk walked down a long stone hallway, flanked in every direction by guards in robes made of navy silk that seemed to float as they walked and showed just enough skin to make him nervous. Well, that and the looks the four guards kept shooting him and each other. Hungry looks. Eager. This wasn’t going to end well if Spock didn’t hurry his Vulcan ass up with the rescue mission, assuming he had one.   
“This way, Prize. You will be held in our best cell while your fate is decided.” The man who spoke had long blonde hair and an angular face, and didn’t even try to hide the bulge of his half-hard cock under the thin robe as he shoved Kirk into the sparse room. Kirk stumbled a little but managed to stay standing, throwing out his chest and trying his hardest to look like an unflappable Starship Captain while his wrists were bound behind his back and his shirt was torn down one shoulder, leaving his collarbone exposed. This was not ideal.   
“The best cell, huh? That’s very generous of you. Any guesses to what my fate’s going to be?” Kirk was running out of subjects other than the four men now inside the cell with him, and it took all he had to keep his face neutral as the blonde one ran a cold hand down his face, cupping his jaw and bringing him in close.   
“You will soon see.” With a twitch of his finger in beckoning the other men were upon him, tearing his clothes off easily and grabbing and rubbing at his body. The blonde man smirked, his eyes fixed on Kirk’s face, as he starting lightly stroking his cock. Jim bit down on his lip hard and squirmed, trying to wriggle out of their grip and not hear the filthy words mumbled against his skin and in his ear.  
“He’s already so pink and flushed...so pretty…” the man to his right breathed, his eyes trailing from Kirk’s lips to his nipples, now starting to harden at the mouth of the man on the left.  
“Bet he fucks like a bitch in heat, this one,” the darker, taller man from behind Kirk growled, squeezing at his bare ass and rubbing a thick finger over his entrance. Kirk jumped at this in alarm, shouting out what would’ve been Spock’s name if a dark hand didn’t immediately close over his mouth. “Shh...don’t want anyone spoiling our fun, now do we?” Kirk looked over his shoulder and gave him his dirtiest glare, changing quickly to a look of panic as the man behind him shoved the finger toying with him roughly into his ass.  
“Hnn--!!” Jim flushed and started fighting against them harder, the stranger’s finger wiggling inside him and pushing deeper into him.  
“Our prize likes the attention, look at his cock” someone cooed, but Jim had shut his eyes shut tight in embarrassment and couldn’t tell who. The man behind him laughed, thrusting into him lazily as he spoke.   
“Let me put it this way, Prize...you can cooperate and stay nice and quiet for us and we’ll prep you and not rough you up...too badly.” The finger inside him curled, and Kirk whimpered sharply against the hand over his mouth, which brought a laugh from a few of the men. “Or you can be difficult and fight us. If you do that, I give you my word that things will not be pleasant for you from here. What’s it gonna be?” The hand against Kirk’s mouth slid down, resting against his throat with just enough pressure to be a threat. Kirk looked around the room desperately. Where was Spock? He couldn’t fight these men alone. Humiliated and overpowered, Kirk stopped struggling. Immediately, he felt a hot wet tongue slide up his neck and a now slick finger pushing back into him.   
“Good boy...we’re gonna make you feel so good…” 

Spock was in combat with two large guards when he heard Kirk shout out for him. The panic in his voice flipped a switch in Spock, and the two men were unmoving on the ground--incapacitated or dead he had no time to discern or care--and he was beating the thick wooden door Kirk’s voice came from behind to the point of splintering open.   
Upon rushing into the holding area, Spock was hit with a barrage of observations: the thick, male smell of sex, loud sounds of laughter and the smack of a hand against skin, four robed men crowded around something--around Jim. In the half-second before he made his presence very painfully known, Spock took in the sight of his captain naked on his hands and knees, a blonde man pushing his cock into his mouth fast and deep, and a larger man working his ass open with several fingers slick with lube while his other hand fondled Kirk’s erection. Two other men stood above and watched, touching themselves. One had already spent himself on Kirk’s bare back. This was what lit the fire more than anything--the logical First Officer and friend part of Spock worried about his captain’s well-being was lost in a rage that manifested itself in one burning word: mine. 

The first man whose neck Spock cleanly snapped, the one whose claim was dripping off of Kirk’s back, did not even have time to react. The second, the blonde one, saw Spock coming but could not do anything but pull out of Kirk’s mouth and take a step away before his body hit the dirt floor. By this time, about three seconds had passed and the other two guards had gathered their wits enough to try to attack the Vulcan, but Spock was not looking to waste time fighting, his brain and blood was still burning with fury, screaming for him to eliminate this unwanted competition, and before half a minute had passed all four guards were dispatched and Spock was carrying his shaking, breathless captain back into the night.   
“Energize” he mumbled into his communicator when his head cleared enough to remember he could, still flying through the alien underbrush with the ease of a jungle cat, clutching a naked and semi-coherent James Kirk to his chest.   
They were transported up onto the ship in this manner, and although Kirk was later unsure if his memory of the event could be fully trusted, he could’ve sworn that when the nervous ensign at the controls ran towards Kirk to see if his captain was alright, Spock growled at him before proceeding out the door as fast as he could. Kirk remembers a gravelly vibration coming from Spock’s chest, a noise that his and the ensign’s most animal instincts recognized to mean come no further. Kirk caught a glimpse of the poor kid’s white-as-chalk face as he was swiftly carried out and away, and he was about to try and laugh when unconsciousness hit.


	2. Chapter 2

He came to in his quarters, and the first thing he thinks is how warm he is, and how nice it feels. The memory of the night before comes back and he stiffens slightly, the violations playing back in his mind and his embarrassment rising. Kirk knows there was nothing he could’ve done differently to keep it from happening, and it wasn’t his fault, but his body betrayed him at the rough attention, and he couldn’t deny that at least on a physical level, he had enjoyed it. This was all he had time to think, however, because the warmth around him was shifting and drawing him closer and--Kirk turned to look behind him, then faced forward again, his eyes widening and his cheeks heating up. Oh. Spock was in his bed. Spock was holding him in his bed, and by the feel of his bare chest against Kirk’s back, he was not wearing much. A hand slid gently through Kirk’s hair, and he felt himself relaxing into Spock’s body, putting off the inevitable “what the hell are you doing here” conversation for as long as possible. Spock seems to pick up on this last thought, speaking in a softer voice than Kirk knew the half-Vulcan could.  
“You were not fit to spend the night alone. It was logical that I stay with you. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable in doing so.” Kirk scans through his jumbled emotions: surprise, confusion, but what he feels more than anything else is comfort. He has not been held like this in a long time, if ever, and Spock’s deep, almost spicy scent and his over-warm body against his is blissful.   
“...It’s okay. I mean, I’m not uncomfortable. With this.” Kirk clears his throat, sure that Spock was watching his ears and cheeks turn pink with what he would he would never admit to being amusement. Sure enough, what could’ve almost been mistaken for a chuckle warms Kirk’s ear, and he feels a jolt of arousal shoot down his spine. Embarrassed, but not too much so to leave the warmth of the bed and the Vulcan behind him, Kirk moves in closer and slides his hand over Spock’s, bringing it into his chest. “Shut up.”   
“I do not believe I spoke, Jim.” 

They stay like that for a while, both of them basking unashamedly in the other’s heat, scent; buzzing with the simple pleasure of finally, finally being this close. Spock has his mental shields on lockdown for the sake of Jim’s privacy (for now flits through his mind too quickly to control) but he can still feel the comfort and sense of security pulsing from Jim’s skin to his. He couldn’t control that if he wanted to, and he most certainly does not. But eventually Jim remembers he is Captain of the Starship Enterprise, and he sits up to check the time.  
“Spock, what the hell? My shift started two hours ago, and you--”  
“I summoned Doctor McCoy last night shortly after our return to the ship. You were unconscious. He has given the order that we may return to work at my discretion.” Jim blinked a few times, running a hand through already hopeless bedhead.  
“Oh. Well, what does your discretion say?”  
“I have insufficient data presently as you have just woken up. You were assaulted last night, in a way that can devastate the mind far more than the body.” Jim flinches at this, and Spock pauses to meet his eyes before continuing. “I assure you, the threat has been eliminated, but I find that regardless...I blame myself for what happened to you.” Spock drops his gaze. “It is my directive as your First Officer to protect you at all times, and I failed you last night. Regret is illogical, but I am still burdened with it. I am truly sorry, Jim.”   
When Spock finally looks up, it is because Jim’s hand has slipped into his, and he takes in blue, blue eyes shining with the first whisper of tears and pink lips stretched into a wide, affectionate grin.  
“Goddamnit, Spock.” When Jim pulls Spock into their first kiss, illogical is the first thing that crosses his mind, which is quickly overwhelmed by waves of want and friendship and relief and Jim’s lips, Jim’s hands, and he finds the logic of the situation is no longer of relevance. He kisses Jim back slowly, lightly, as if he is afraid of breaking him, and does not permit the hand on his hip to move. Jim accepts this gentle affection, breaking the kiss after a moment to nuzzle at Spock’s neck and eliciting a quiet purring noise that he would almost definitely never admit to.   
“Never guessed Vulcans were so gentle.” There is an edge of teasing in his voice, and Spock raises an eyebrow and glances down at him.  
“I assure you, we are not.” Spock observes Jim’s cheeks grow warmer at this. Curious. “However, my duty as your First Officer comes before anything else. And I find that my duty currently involves sending you to shower and dress.” Jim grins a little and leans up for another kiss, just because he can.   
“Is that an order, Mr. Spock?” Jim expects the flirty little quip to fly over his First Officer’s head and a dry response about chain of command. He doesn’t expect the way Spock’s eyes darken with lust, and how the hand still holding Jim’s tightens for just a second. But then the second is over and Spock is standing and clearing his throat, his cheeks flushing a light green.   
“It was more a request, Captain, as I require use of the bathroom facilities after you.” Jim runs his eyes over Spock, still grinning that infuriating little grin. He stands as well and strips his tank top off, walking over to the bathroom door and glancing over at Spock as it sweeps open. Fuck. Spock wasn’t even pretending not to stare at him. Jim shivered.  
“You know, logically it would save time if we showered together.” He shot Spock a flirty smile, the urge to mess with the Vulcan too great. “Care to join me?” He slid his black boxer briefs over the curve of his ass and bent down a little to slide them down and off and okay he definitely heard a growl this time, except this one sent a shiver up his spine and a rush of blood to his naked cock.  
“Captain,” Spock’s voice was cold and tightly controlled, “with respect...you will do as I’ve requested of you, or you will very much regret not doing so.”   
I somehow doubt that; the dangerous drive-your-stepdad’s-car-off-a-cliff part of Jim considered taking him up on that threat, but then he met Spock’s eyes and caught that dark look again and fuck he should probably just take a fucking shower. Spock allowed himself a smile as the doors shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Wow, I was not expecting so many people to actually read this. Cool. :D Here's a little snippet of the next chapter to tide you all over while I'm writing it, it should be out later tonight. Please review/leave comments/suggestions, I'm bored and love writing kinky smut. <3 -Lily)

Kirk takes eighteen minutes and thirty seven seconds in the bathroom before emerging with a towel around his waist. Spock looks up from the PADD he was working to its limit, and admires his captain as he sets about dressing. His body is tight and compact, well toned and….quite pleasing to the eye. Kirk notices him looking again and lets the towel drop to the floor, and in response Spock very nearly cracks the PADD in half with his grip. Is Jim always this free with his body? Is it because he is comfortable around Spock, or does he allow anyone who happens to be in his quarters the opportunity to memorize him like this? Jim has pants on now, and is asking Spock something, but it is drowned out in a pounding rush of anger, that anyone would dare touch or even look at what belonged to him, and Kirk has a confused look on his face and is saying Spock’s name and Spock nods stiffly and walks into the bathroom before he seriously humiliates himself. Jim is not his. Not yet. He needs to meditate, but he finds that thinking about anything other than Jim’s body pressed to his, those wide blue eyes, the expanse of his shower-warm skin is most displeasing at the current time. He emerges fully dressed from the bathroom in exactly ten minutes.

“Spock? What the hell was that all--” is what Jim gets out before he is pressed into the wall. Spock has a hand in Jim’s hair, the other gripping his hip tightly. Spock is shaking slightly with effort, but before Jim can ask about it he is being kissed desperately and melts into it without a second thought. Spock is so close, almost covering him completely, and Jim slides his hands around the back of his neck, letting out a little noise into his lips. Wanting more, whatever that meant, Jim rolls his hips against Spock lightly, and gasps when the kiss is broken and the hand on his hip slams him back into the wall hard. Spock is looking down at him darkly, still shaking, and when he speaks it is in a low growl that Jim only ever fantasized about hearing directed toward him.   
“You...wreak havoc on my self control, Jim.” He leans in, his breath hot against the alien curve of Jim’s ear. “I find that I must have you. Immediately.” Jim gasps at this, and Spock lets the hand in his hair slide down his face lightly. His fingers rest lightly on Jim’s psi points, and the electricity of the mind beneath his hand pulls him in. He feels a dam inside him start to crack. “Allow me the courtesy of showing you what that entails, were you to consent.”   
“Go ahead.” Jim’s voice is dry. He doesn’t really know where this is going, but some of his best missions start out that way. Spock does not hesitate, but slides into Kirk’s thoughts, his consciousness. It is beautiful, warm and gold, like stepping into a sun-warmed library, and Kirk feels a wave of contentment that is not his own crest over him. Before he has time to think any further, however, he finds himself observing a series of memories from Spock’s point of view. They flash from one to another every few seconds, but Kirk gets the gist: they are all of him flirting with other people; in the first he is laughing and clapping a male ensign on the shoulder, standing a little too close for professionalism. His hand brushing the curls of a young scientist out of her eyes, giving her his classic smirk. Kirk sees himself at a distance drinking at a space station bar with two men, one of them Vulcan, and as he leaves with them his own rush of embarrassment that Spock saw this one is engulfed by a rage so strong he is surprised it doesn’t burn him to a crisp. He hears Spock speak in his thoughts.  
“I have watched you give yourself to anyone you fancy, subduing myself because logically I had no other course. But after what transpired yesterday, I no longer care. I must have you. And if I am to have you, Jim, I will have you completely.” Jim is suddenly overcome with images--he is on his back, his mouth open wide and his face tense in pleasure as Spock pounds into him, then that dissolves and he is in his lap, panting and crying out each time Spock bounces him on his cock, then he is on his knees, his eyes almost innocently wide and his lips parted in submission as he receives Spock’s ejaculate on his lips and down his chin. “Mine, only mine, only ever mine” he hears playing over in the back of his thoughts, barely even registering it’s in Vulcan, and he shivers. Why is Spock just telling him this now? Did he think Jim would be offended or something? Or hurt? “Frightened, was the main concern.” rang through his head, and Jim felt himself grin. Over-protective Vulcan. Two can play at this game.  
“What game are you refer--Jim!!” Feeling around his mind clumsily, operating on mostly intuition, Jim finds his filthiest cache of fantasies--the roughest, most embarrassing thoughts of him getting smacked around, thoroughly dominated by a tall man in dark shadow, with a low voice that dipped into a growl as he pulled Jim’s mouth open and began fucking down his throat. Jim moaned and dipped down to take his cock in further, only to be pulled off it roughly by his hair and slapped across the face. He changes the scene, being choked against the wall and played with mercilessly, his cock hard against his stomach and his eyes focusing on dark eyes and pointed ears as his vision swims. Jim sends all this and more at Spock with everything he’s got, and almost immediately feels the Vulcan withdraw from his mind. He’s worried that he’s gone too far for a moment, as Spock takes a step back and lowers his hands to his side, but then Jim looks up and sees something he definitely never thought he’d see on a Vulcan: a smirk. Oh shit.  
“You...enjoy being dominated. Controlled. You are aroused by it.” It wasn’t a question. Jim feels his cheeks heat up, forcing himself to meet Spock’s eyes instead of dropping his gaze to the floor. He was falling into a submissive, slutty headspace and fast. After a moment, Jim realizes Spock expected an answer, and he nods meekly. He does not expect the sharp slap across the face, to be sure, but he expects the surprised little noise from Spock as his hand smacks against his skin even less. For a split second, Spock looks totally taken aback, and glances at his hand, blushing furiously. But he is back again before Jim recovers from the slap, and he shoves him against the wall with a hand on his throat.  
“And yet, you are as insolent to me as you are to any authority.” Spock growls in his ear, already half hard and getting quickly more excited as his words elicit a choked little whimper from Jim. “You will show me proper respect, boy, and you will refer to me only as Mr. Spock or sir while I am taking you. Is that clear?” The hand on Jim’s throat was gone, and then it was jerking his head back by a tight handful of hair, forcing Kirk to meet Spock’s eyes. Jim considers mouthing off--it’s in his nature, after all--but goddamn, Spock is looking at him like he’s starving for this just as much as he is, and he gives him his most wide-eyed, submissive look.   
“Yes, Mr. Spock.”  
“Apologize.” Spock’s gaze travels down to Kirk’s lips.  
“I-I’m sorry, sir.” Jim squirms a little, thinking that Spock needs to stop talking and start touching him right the fuck now. His next thought is “fuck he’s a touch telepath,” and then he is jerked from the wall by his hair and shoved so hard he stumbles. Spock walks over to him with his hands clasped behind his back, looking him up and down with a disdainful eyebrow raise.   
“It seems I have much work to do.” Jim’s eyes meet the floor. “Undress.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last bit! I had a lot of fun writing this, and doubt I'm really done with these two. Let me know what you think! <3 -Lily

“It seems I have much work to do.” Jim’s eyes meet the floor. “Undress.” When he tugs his gold shirt off in a flurry of movement, Spock growls quietly and is satisfied when this makes his captain pause. “Slowly. You are not here for your pleasure, boy, but mine.” Kirk flushes and slows, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants and letting them slide to the floor. After that comes his black undershirt, and as he slowly begins to slide his boxer-briefs down his hips, the waistband catching on the head of his aching, untouched cock, he feels Spocks eyes on him intensely, like he is committing him to memory. He lets the underwear slide down to meet the rest of his clothes, and it takes all his willpower not to start stroking at himself.   
“Turn around.” Jim flushes and gives him a questioning look, but does as he’s told. “Good. Now pick up your clothes, fold them, and put them on the bed. Slowly.”   
Jim’s eyes widen a little, and he suppresses a little laugh as he bends down fluidly to pick up his clothes, piece by piece. Perverted Vulcan. How long has he been wanting to watch Jim like this, under his command? He hears the whisper of Spock’s zipper, and wills himself not to look behind him as he folds his clothing, pushing his ass out a little as he leans down to set the pile on the bed. Without a sound, Spock is behind him, and Jim tries to straighten up in surprise but is shoved right back down.   
“Good boy…” Spock breathes, hitching slightly as he starts to rub his full, thick cock against Jim’s ass. Jim can’t help but shudder, looking over his shoulder and giving Spock his best attempt at a teasing grin.  
“Been thinking about this a while, haven’t--aah!!” Jim gasps and is pushed down hard into his mattress as fucking Spock fucking spanks him. Granted, he probably deserved it, but still!   
“Unbelievable.” Another smack, on the other cheek. Kirk cries out sharply, and is shoved further into the mattress by a hand on the back of his neck. “Your lack of discipline is appalling.”   
Spock smacks him several times, the cracks resounding across the room and the muffled pleading hitting his ears like a symphony. His cock is weeping precome now, the pleasure of his sensitive hands on Kirk’s ass driving his control thin and tempting him to hold Kirk down and not let him up until he’s red and purple with hand-shaped bruises and splattered with come. Spock will not last long like this, and he has barely touched him. He runs the slick head of his cock along the cleft of Jim’s ass, smacking him one more time before stepping back.  
“On your knees.” This time, Kirk is quick to respond.   
“Yes, sir.” He kneels in front of Spock, his eyes immediately drawn to the heavy, green-tinged alien cock in front of him and runs his tongue over his lips without thinking. Taking hold of his chin with his thumb and forefinger, Spock urges Jim’s mouth open. He begins to pump at his own cock slowly, dragging the head over Jim’s lips and taking his time defiling him. Jim opens his mouth wider and looks up at Spock with half-shut eyes, and Spock can feel Jim fantasizing in anticipation; the words “fuck my mouth” flit from his skin to Spock’s, without his knowing, most likely.   
“Ask for it, James.” Kirk lets out a little moan, not questioning how Spock knows how hot using his full name gets him. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, he feels the heat and wetness of Spock’s arousal smack against his cheek, and that’s fucking it, he can’t take it anymore and he’s begging.  
“Mr. Spock, please,” Jim’s voice is higher than normal and breathless, “Please let me pleasure you, I want you to fuck my mouth hard, sir, please…” Jim feels a hand tighten in his hair and he meets Spock’s eyes and opens his mouth as wide as he can, quietly relishing how the action makes Spock shudder darkly with want.   
“Beautiful…” Spock mumbles, and he guides Jim’s head closer, pushing the head of his cock between his pink lips. Jim’s tongue immediately springs to action, suckling at him obscenely, like he’s been craving it for months. He looks perfect like this, Spock notes, his hypothesis confirmed. He lets Jim taste him, feel the weight of him on his tongue for just a few moments, before he can no longer take the delicate heat and he pushes into his mouth firmly, a quiet chuckle rumbling through him as he feels Jim gag against his length. But after a moment the resistance is gone, all of it, and Jim is looking up at him with watery, lust-blown eyes, and something in Spock snaps cleanly and he is thrusting into his mouth, hard and deep, a hand tangled in Jim’s hair shoving him down further, and Jim can only grip at Spock’s hips and take it, his head buzzing with the high of being used like this, like a toy for Spock’s pleasure and nothing else. He sucks his cheeks in as best he can as Spock fucks down his throat, and the sharp gasps of breath from the Vulcan start to meld into low grunts, his hips snapping forward at a punishing tempo. Spock was originally intending to pull Jim off and finish inside him, but he finds himself either unable or unwilling to leave the hot, wet bliss of Jim’s mouth as he begins to come. With an uncontrolled growl, Spock shoves Jim down on his cock completely, holding him there with a firm hand as his hips buck his orgasm into Jim’s mouth. When he is spent he slowly withdraws, watching his come spill from Jim’s lips down his chin and neck with intense satisfaction. He steps back and admires Jim’s trembling, used form, and he finds that the embers of pleasure left from his orgasm are quickly being fanned back into flame. Jim swallows as much as he can, licking his lips and looking up at Spock as he tries to catch his breath. Spock looks at Jim expectantly, eyebrow raised, and when Jim does not understand Spock tilts Jim’s chin up, running his thumb over his bottom lip.  
“Where are your manners?” He muses quietly. “What do you say when you’ve been given what you’ve asked for, James?” Kirk didn’t think his face could get much hotter, but he was quickly proven wrong. God, he was so turned on he could scream.  
“Thank you, Mr. Spock.” His voice is rough, understandably, and so fucked out that Kirk barely recognizes it as his own.  
“Good boy, very good...” Spock runs a hand through Jim’s hair, and the praise makes him slightly dizzy, grinning stupidly up at Spock. For a brief moment, Spock smiles back genuinely, unable to help himself. He finds his human incredibly endearing. But then he is back in his role, and is guiding Kirk shakily to his feet by the hold on his chin. Kirk immediately moves in to kiss Spock, and caught slightly off guard, Spock allows it. He drinks in the way Kirk’s naked body presses to his clothed one, as if he can’t get close enough to him, and the way his swollen, red lips press to his greedily. He does not want it to end, but when Kirk breaks for air Spock holds him still.   
“You’ve done well, James. I believe you deserve a reward.” Spock’s hand slides down and wraps lightly around Jim’s painfully hard cock, giving him a slight friction to rut into but not nearly enough pressure. Jim whimpers pitifully, burying his head into the crook of Spock’s neck.  
“Please, please s-sir--aah--please…” he breathes into Spock’s skin, not really knowing what he is asking for and not particularly caring. Spock stiffens for a moment, and Jim feels the Vulcan’s cock swell against his bare thigh before he steps away and sits on the bed, his posture effortlessly perfect as always.   
“You will find the lubricant and bring it to me,” Spock orders, knowing that logically Kirk would own some, and when Kirk opens the bedside table drawer and brings him a small tube, he kisses him deeply as reward. “Good boy. Now straddle me, so I am able see your face as I claim you.” Spock is hesitant (and not embarrassed, because that would be illogical) about stating his intention to make Kirk so primally and animalistically his, but judging by the way Kirk’s eyes widen and his breath completely abandons him, Spock gains confidence. He leans forward, grabbing at Kirk’s full, firm ass with both hands, guiding him up onto his lap. Jim blushes hard and squirms, wrapping his arms around Spock’s neck. Spock brushes his lips over Jim’s neck curiously, and when he receives a little gasp in return he runs his tongue wetly over his throat. Slowly, scientifically, he begins to map out the sensitive skin, before picking a spot just above his collarbone to latch onto, digging his teeth into him and marking him clearly, darkly. Jim cries out and starts to struggle, but Spock is a step ahead and pulls him close with the grip on his ass, spanking him hard. It takes four strikes before Jim is shakily still against him, but Spock posits he probably would’ve stopped struggling after the first if he didn’t enjoy it. With a smirk concealed by Jim’s abused skin, he spanks him again, relishing in the hot, desperate spike of emotion he reads and the jolt of pleasure that shoots through his arm and straight to his cock.  
“You undo me...completely, James.” Spock mumbles in his ear, taking the lube from Jim and slicking his fingers generously behind his back. “I find myself wishing for this at most inopportune moments…on the bridge, while I am meditating...most troublesome.” Two long, delicate fingers swipe over Jim’s entrance as he speaks--once, twice, a slow, torturous rhythm forming, leaving Jim panting and rocking his hips back hard, desperate for more of the Vulcan, desperate to be fucked until he’s screaming and then fucked until he can’t scream anymore, desperate to fucking come, for Spock to let him come. Spock was hit with a barrage of thoughts like this as he toyed with him, each one trying his patience more than the last. With a steadying breath, Spock works a finger into the tight heat of Jim’s ass. Jim moans and clenches around him, and Spock has to call on a Vulcan logic mantra to keep from coming again. He shudders and grips at Jim’s hip with his free hand as he calms himself, holding him tightly enough to leave bruises. Jim glances down, completely lost in a heady subspace, but looking concerned nonetheless.   
“You okay?” Jim mumbles, catching Spock’s eye. Spock gives him a reassuring little smirk and pulls him down into a deep, hot kiss, pushing another finger into him smoothly and thrusting up into him at a slow pace. When he breaks the kiss, they are both panting.   
“Did you know, James, that Vulcan hands are one of our most erogenous areas?” Spock spoke levelly as he finger-fucked him, his arousal for the moment under control. Spock did not expect Jim to be capable of answering, but the shudder that went through him at his words showed he understood. “Indeed. In fact, we kiss with our hands. More specifically, with two fingers.” He punctuated this statement by curving the fingers inside Jim, thrusting up firmly and rubbing against his prostate.   
“Spock--!!” Jim cries out sharply and bucks his hips forward, his mouth falling open. Spock growls low in his throat when Jim says his name, pushing his fingers into him harder and faster. Without warning he pushes in a third finger, and Jim starts to moan and grind his hips down in time to the thrusts, clenching rhythmically against the Vulcan’s fingers.   
“What a good little slut,” Spock begins talking without really knowing what he’s saying, just watching Jim’s body roll and tense with each movement, begging for more, always more. “You want something bigger than my fingers, don’t you, boy? Want me deep inside you, filling you completely, fucking the screams from those pretty lips…” Jim isn’t entirely sure he’s hearing this. “You want that, don’t you, James?” The thrusts stop and Jim whimpers loudly when his fingers are withdrawn. “Convince me.”  
Goddamnit. Spock really wants him to beg now? Jim can barely string a sentence together, how’s he supposed to--  
SMACK  
“Now.” Fucking Vulcans and their fucking touch telepathy. Jim gasps as Spock spanks him for that thought as well.   
“Fuck, Spock, please!! Please fuck me, I can’t take it, please, please!!” Jim’s voice is urgent, desperate, and when Spock glances down at his boy’s poor neglected cock, he finally takes pity on him. He finds the lube again, pouring some into his palm and stroking at his own erection, slicking it completely. Jim watches him with wide eyes, biting at his lip as he takes in Spock’s size. He’s big, at least seven inches, and thick. Jim tries to calm himself as Spock lines himself up, flicking through the other men he has slept with to assure himself he’s taken bigger. He is pinned on his back by his throat, staring up into the angriest eyes he’s ever seen on a Vulcan, before he realizes what a huge mistake that was.  
“What. Were you just thinking about.” Spock’s voice trembles with the effort of staying level, his grip on Kirk’s throat tightening to the point where he could just barely breathe.   
“I-I’m sorry Mr. Spock, I didn’t mean--aah-!!” Kirk’s voice breaks as Spock slams into him in one firm movement, pushing himself in to the root of his cock. Kirk can only tremble and try to adjust to his size, a masochistic part of his mind noting that he has not, in fact, taken bigger. This does not calm Spock’s anger, however, and his voice is like gravel in his ear.   
“You would dare test my claim, thinking of other men while I fucked you?” He pulls out a few inches and then slams back in, making Jim cry out sharply. He’s never heard this edge of anger, of violence in Spock’s voice outside of their missions. It scares him, and it’s intoxicating. Spock pulls back again, almost to the point of slipping out of him, and finally loosens the grip on his throat.  
“Who do you belong to, James?” Jim meets Spock’s eyes, his voice shaky and rough from being choked.  
“You, Spock. Only you.” He means it, with every bit of himself, and Spock’s anger abates when he feels the truth of it wash over his mind.  
“Good boy.” Spock slams back into him and sets a fast, hard pace, one of Jim’s legs draping over his hip as he angles his thrusts to hit his prostate with a purely Vulcan accuracy. Jim takes it all, and he hears his voice getting louder and higher, almost embarrassingly feminine.  
“Spock--!! Fuck, don’t stop, please, I-I’m so close…” His breath hitches as a blazing hot hand wraps around his cock, pumping it in perfect time to the unceasing rhythm of Spock pounding into him. “Please let me come, sir, please--!!” Spock laughs darkly, pushing deeper into the tight, hot perfection of Jim’s ass, knowing he would not dare come until he was allowed.  
“It seems you are learning manners after all, James,” Spock rumbles, squeezing the base of Jim’s full, leaking cock until his human is whimpering and pleading, rolling his hips against Spock’s thrusts, doing anything he can think of to let him come. It is the single, pounding thought in his head now, and Spock hears it through his skin manifested in a single, desperate “please.” He laughs, a quiet deep chuckle that sends electricity up Jim’s spine, and the hand on his cock speeds up, finally giving him the pressure he needs. Spock’s other hand lines up with Jim’s psi points for the second time that day.  
“You may come for me now.” Still snapping his hips into Jim at a frenzied pace, Spock lowers the last of his shields and lets his consciousness flow together with Jim’s.   
“Spock!!” Jim is unsure if he has screamed aloud or if it was just in his head, but he has been flooded with the near-overloading pleasure of Spock’s mind as well as his own, and he can see himself naked and flushed and writhing, his come splattering his stomach in thick ropes, and he can see Spock, feel him rut into him without rhythm, just with need, as he comes inside him and claims him fully. Their orgasms entwine, pushing each other into a new level of pleasure like a feedback loop on an amplifier. Not even Spock knows how long they cling to each other, shaking, before they both white out, but he estimates it is about five minutes before either of them moves again, when Spock finally slips himself out of Jim and falls to his side, watching in sated pleasure as his come slides out of him.  
“Mine,” Jim hears Spock think contentedly, which sends him into a fit of giggling for some reason. Spock looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, which only makes it worse.   
“Have I done something humorous?” Spock asks, his voice tinged with confusion. He will truly never understand humans, he thinks, as Jim buries his face into Spock’s chest, trying to calm his laughter down. Spock resigns himself to stroking Jim’s hair until the laughter subsides, enjoying the innocent, boyish sound of it. If this were to be a recurring post-coital occurrence, he does not think he would mind. When Jim is finally quiet, he realizes how exhausted he is.   
“Was that satisfactory, Captain?” Spock asks him mentally, pulling the covers up over the two of them. Jim makes a contented noise, his head buzzing with exhaustion and relieved tension, and moves in closer to Spock. He feels like a puddle of previously Captain Kirk.   
“I assure you, Jim, you are quite solid.” It is Spock’s turn to laugh, quiet and low, and Jim finds the energy to move up and kiss him at the sound of it. He doesn’t need to say it, neither of them do. They spend the rest of the afternoon in bed, exploring each other’s minds and basking in the glow of the knowledge that somehow, despite all odds and all expectations, they have found each other, and they are loved.


End file.
